When Josh picked me up at my apartment two hours ago, dressed to kill in a trim black Armani suit and sunglasses, I immediately checked out his palms, expecting to see him carrying a poker chip. But, nope.
“No poker chip?” I asked as we waltzed down the walkway hand-in-hand toward his car.
“Not right now. But you never know when a sneaky guy might whip one out, so you better keep on your toes, Party Girl.”
I peel my attention off Josh’s striking face and watch Henn and Hannah singing the final lines of their song. Man, they’re killing it. They’re milk and cookies. Bert and Ernie. Macaroni and cheese.Peanut butter and jelly.I lean into Josh’s shoulder again and squeeze his hand and he squeezes right back.
Maybe Sarah was right. This is enough. I’ve been overthinking. I don’t need promises. All I need is the way I feel right now.
Henn and Hannah traipse happily off the stage toward our table, getting high-fives and cheers from everyone they pass, while a large guy with a bushy beard assumes the stage to belt out “Living on a Prayer.”
“Utter brilliance,” Josh says when Henn and Hannah plop themselves down.
“You’re definitely tied for best of the night with Josh and Kat,” Sarah agrees. “You both can actually sing.”
“As opposed tome, is that what you’re saying?” Josh says, laughing.
“No, that’s not what I’m saying. Your performance was brilliant, Joshy Woshy. You didn’t justsingyour parts, you told the truth with every goddamned word.”
Josh laughs and re-enacts his repeated “turn around” refrainfrom “Total Eclipse of the Heart,” which Josh and I performed together earlier in the night to raucous applause from the entire bar.
“Hey, at least I’m a better singer than Jonas,” Josh says.
“Josh,” Jonas pipes in. “Don’t congratulate yourself on being a better singer than me. I’m literally tone deaf—hence the reason you’ll never catch me doing karaoke.”
“Love, what you lack in actual singing ability, you make up for with the heart of a lion,” Sarah says. “But yeah, the lead singer of our group’s boy-band is definitely Henny. I didn’t know you could sing, Henn.”
“Yeah, I sang in ana cappellagroup at UCLA.”
I exchange a smile with Josh. Why am I not surprised about that? That’s so damned Henn.
“But I’m chopped liver compared to Hannah,” Henn continues. “I sing like a choir boy, but she’s got truesoul. You should hear her singing Beyoncé in the shower. Sexy.”
Hannah pushes up her glasses and busts out the chorus of “Say My Name.” “Queen Bey better watch her back, that’s all I’m sayin’,” she says. And then she snorts.
“I love it when you sing,” Henn gushes. “You’reamazing.”
I exchange a smiling look with Sarah. Oh man, that boy’s in love.
Hannah giggles. “Henn. You think everything I do isamazing.I made you buttered toast the other day and you said it was the best toast you’d ever had.”
“Well, it was—just the perfect amount of butter. It was even better than amazing—it wasschmamazing.”
We all laugh, though I personally have no idea what the hell that means.
Henn looks at all of us with puppy-dog eyes. “And you should see how well she drawsanime, too. And she makes the best chocolate chip cookies you’ve ever had. They melt in your mouth.”
Oh my God. It’s all I can do not to leap across the table, grab Henn’s lapels and shake him like you’re not supposed to shake a baby. The boy’sin love! It makes me feel as gooey as a fresh-baked chocolate chip cookie.
“Chocolate chip cookies, computer coding. Same-same,” Hannah says. “Both take equal amounts of genius.”
“You can’t eatcode, baby. I’ll take the cookies.Hey. There’s a hacker-pun in there somewhere, I’m sure of it.” He snickers. “So, anyhoo, we’ve already seen Josh and Kat’s spectacular rendition of ‘Total Eclipse of the Heart,’ which was legendary, by the way, guys, and now Banana and I have stopped the earth rotating on its axis for approximately four and a half minutes with what can only be described as sob-inducing spectacularity—so what are you two planning for our delight and entertainment?” Henn says, looking at Jonas and Sarah. “I’ll die a happy man if I get to witness you sing karaoke, big guy.”
“I don’t do karaoke, like I said,” Jonas says evenly, swigging his Scotch. “I can’t sing for shit. I’m not in the business of embarrassing myself—at least not on purpose.”
“Oh, baby,” Sarah purrs, stroking his forearm. “You have a beautiful voice.” She leans in and whispers something to Jonas and he grins broadly. He looks up and quickly catches the attention of the waitress across the room.
I lean into Josh. “The countdown clock just started on Jonas singing tonight.”
